


the rough edge of every promise

by ODed_on_jingle_jangle



Series: while your colors bleed [2]
Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Angst, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Femslash February, Internal Conflict, Introspection, Statutory Rape, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODed_on_jingle_jangle/pseuds/ODed_on_jingle_jangle
Summary: When Addy thinks about her future, first and foremost she thinks of cheerleading.She thinks of getting a scholarship, being on a college squad. More stunts, more coverage, more revealing uniforms, more everything, really. Opportunities, unconfined by the limits of dinky Sutton Grove. Effortless cartwheels in the campus quad and cutthroat competitions with even more at stake. But if she keeps thinking about the future, lets her imagination run free, other things come forth whether she wants them to or not.Things like Beth. Things like Coach.
Relationships: Beth Cassidy/Addy Hanlon, Colette French/Addy Hanlon
Series: while your colors bleed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617898
Comments: 3
Kudos: 90





	the rough edge of every promise

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to give writing for Dare Me another crack. It falls into continuity with the last fic I posted, so I figured I might as well create a collection. Spoilers for the book. I got the title from A Softer World, comic 1228.

When Addy thinks about her future, first and foremost she thinks of cheerleading. 

She thinks of getting a scholarship, being on a college squad. More stunts, more coverage, more revealing uniforms, more everything, really. Opportunities, unconfined by the limits of dinky Sutton Grove. Effortless cartwheels in the campus quad and cutthroat competitions with even more at stake.

First and foremost, these are the things that come to her head. 

But if she keeps thinking about the future, lets her imagination run free, other things come forth whether she wants them to or not. 

Things like Beth. 

Like maybe, maybe she and Beth go to the same college, join the same team, share the same dorm, attached at the hip as they’ve always been. Maybe they’ll sleep in the same bed and Addy won’t be afraid to touch her anymore, like last summer never happened. Like then they’ll both be ready for it— really ready for it —and things won’t get weird and Addy won’t choke on her own heart trying to figure out what exactly it is Beth wants from her, which Beth is real and which one is just a mask in her never-ending game of layers. 

And maybe even after college, she’s still with Beth. Maybe they get a flat and a cat and mismatched furniture. Maybe they even get married one day, Beth all sleek and suave in a classy black suit and Addy twirling in a tiered, swan white wedding gown. 

Maybe they’ll even be professional cheerleaders in the NFL and they’ll milk it for awhile, because if Kriste Lewis could make the cut at 40, she and Beth could surely last until then, at least. Hell yeah, they could.

And even when the day comes that they won’t be cheerleaders anymore, maybe on the weekends they’ll look back at college pics and high school yearbooks and do somersaults in the living room and strike V-poses. Maybe they’ll get drunk and try to fit into their old uniforms and even when the day comes that the fabric is too snug and looser, fatter skin pudges over the elastic band of her skirt, Beth will tell Addy she’s beautiful. Addy will tell Beth she’s beautiful too, because she will be, God, of course she’ll always be beautiful with eyes like that. 

It could happen, maybe, yeah, they could be be Mrs. Hanlon-Cassidy and Mrs. Cassidy-Hanlon and go on road trips and swim in crystal lagoons. 

Could they have that? 

Could they really? 

* * *

Sometimes when Addy thinks about her future, she thinks about Coach. She thinks about Coach believing in her, promising Addy that she is more than a silly girl, head stuffed full of cotton candy dreams. She thinks about her body like willing clay in Coach’s hands, hers for the molding, hers for the shaping. Coach sees Addy for what she is, she isn’t playing games like Beth. 

(is she?) 

Coach got her last team to regionals. Coach can lead Addy straight to the scholarship, straight to what she wants, what she needs, really. 

(right?) 

But where do they go from there? 

It’s an uncomfortable question, a parasite wriggling in Addy’s brain every time she falls asleep in Coach’s arms on the nights Matt French is out and her mother believes she is at Beth’s or occasionally even RiRi’s. 

Does Coach drop Matt French like a hot potato? 

She won’t do that for Sarge Will. Could she do it for Addy? Does she even love Addy?

More than Matt French, at least. 

Where does that leave Caitlin? 

Caitlin likes Addy as a babysitter. She likes to play patty-cake and peek-a-boo. She likes to stack blocks with Addy and tug on her bracelets. Sure, she likes Addy as a babysitter. 

Would she like her as a stepmom? 

Not that that’s what Addy wants right now. Addy wants a scholarship. Addy wants college. Addy wants adventures in her twenties, the ones she’s sure Coach wishes she had. Coach confesses things of the like to her when she’s drunk, how she rushed her relationship with Matt, rushed into all the responsibilities full speed ahead as if she’d already known everything there was to know about having them. 

Addy doesn’t want to be Caitlin’s mom, Addy doesn’t want to upheave Matt French’s life, or hurt Sarge Will, who’s already lost one love. Really, Addy doesn’t even want to put a label on whatever this thing is between her and Coach. But somehow she doesn’t want it to end, either. 

She likes being looked at and seen. She likes the way Coach makes her feel about herself, like she’s the shining superstar even though she’s never been Top Girl. Like her potential is real and there’s so much it’s practically pouring out of her. 

And in a weird way, Addy likes the secrecy of whatever this unlabeled, simmering thing between them is. Their kisses are whispers, the touches that linger do so behind closed doors. There is security in the secrecy. What she and Coach have is this special thing between them alone and Addy doesn’t have to be singled out as the only black lesbian in mostly white, mostly straight, impossibly small, stuffy Sutton Grove. 

Addy doesn’t want things with Coach to end but when the world gets quiet and her mind keeps reeling she has to ask herself where this is going, long-term. 

Could she be with Coach? Could she go to college and bring Colette along? 

Maybe. Maybe she could convince her that what she sees in her is enough, the age difference doesn’t matter, her uncertainty of a future like that isn’t daunting, it’s exciting. Maybe she could challenge her on her drunken regrets, convince her Caitlin’s too little to care if her parents divorce. 

Convince her to pick Addy not only over Matt, but over Will, pick her because she’s going to go all those places Coach promises her she can and Will won’t. Will is stuck in Sutton Grove with his wounds and his sorrows, and it’s sad but he is static. 

Maybe it’ll work. Maybe Addy will go to college and Colette will come along. Maybe they’ll get a place together with the money she gets in the divorce. Maybe Addy’s college squad will need a coach and Colette will apply and they’ll be student and coach all over again. Maybe she won’t, maybe she’ll get a job at another high school but Addy will still come home to her at night. Addy will tell her about her team and her classes and they’ll go to frat parties hand-in-hand. 

Does Addy want that? 

Does she really? 

* * *

Sarge Will is dead. 

He killed himself, Coach is sure. 

Coach killed him, Beth is sure. 

Addy isn’t really sure of anything but her nightmares. 

* * *

Things change with Coach after That Night, the teeth, the blood, the brains, the bleach. 

There is a shift in their relationship, silent but undeniable. Addy feels it when they’re together. It taints their kisses. They don’t dance anymore. The sex is shorter but rougher. 

Before, they had sex because they wanted it, wanted each other. Addy made Coach hers just like Coach told her to. Maybe at times it was kind of awkward— sometimes Addy couldn’t squelch second thoughts, guilt in her belly for blowing off Beth or anxiety about her lack of experience compared to Coach —but most of the time it was good. 

Thrusting her fingers into Coach until her skin pruned and her nail polish chipped away. The nearly painful pressure of Coach’s knee between her legs. The beautiful, breathy moans that whooshed past Coach’s lips when Addy did everything right. 

It isn’t like that anymore. Now it’s like a buffer, something to fall back on to distract them from what they’ve seen, from new worries in the wake of it. The sex feels more like searching for something they can no longer find in each other, like Coach is putting all of her feelings into Addy so she doesn’t have to carry them around inside herself. Like Addy goes along with it so she can take refuge in the fleeting comfort it provides. 

Sometimes Coach clamps her hand around Addy’s mouth, the pressure of her hand so hard it makes her teeth ache and muffles her moans in her throat. 

* * *

“I wish you’d have Beth over more,” her mother hums as Addy picks at her salad. 

Some chickpeas go rolling across the ceramic plane of the plate and all she can think of is teeth. RiRi’s teeth raining down to the mat, Will’s teeth wobbling under her feet. 

“I’m glad you’re over your fight but I don’t know how I feel about you being at her house all the time. I know how Lana is.” 

“Hey, Mom.” Addy puts her fork down. “Do you know anything about the investigation into Sarge Will’s death?” 

Her mother gives her a curious look. “You hardly ever ask me about work.” 

Addy shrugs, trying to maintain a cool front as her stomach churns. “The whole school is talking about the Sarge. I mean, we used to see him all the time. And Michael really liked him.” 

Her mother gives a short nod, eyes touched with something dark as she takes a sip of her water. 

“There were some troubling signs in his personal life that suggest that he may have been suicidal. But it’s my department’s duty to look into everything just to be sure there was no foul play, and at this time…well, we have reason to keep investigating.” 

Addy swallows and dips her head, staring into her salad as if it holds the answers. 

_You’re screwing a murderer,_ sneers a voice in her head that sounds exactly like Beth. _Better not fuck up, or she might kill you too._

* * *

Addy gets a D on her geography test. 

She blinks down at the paper tiredly, perplexed by the red marks. 

She’s always been a good student. Maybe not Valediction good, but she doesn’t get Ds. She hasn’t gotten a D on anything since before middle school. She pays attention in class, takes good notes, makes time to study. 

Or, she did anyway. It’d gotten a bit more difficult to do since balancing cheer and school became balancing cheer and school and a job, and then balancing cheer and school and a job, and Coach. Coach was— is the most mesmerizing person Addy has ever met. So mesmerizing that sometimes Addy gets lost in her and focusing on stuff like homework just falls to the wayside. Especially when ugly thoughts rear their heads, guilty, uncertain thoughts about the boundaries she and Coach bulldoze together. 

Focusing on stuff like school has become so minimal in comparison to everything else. Especially since That Night of blood, teeth, brains, and bleach. Of kind, sensible Sarge Will sprawled and slack, gun by his side. 

Addy’s psyche is constantly wracked with the images that cannot be erased. It was unspeakably horrible. She didn’t even realize she was crying until Coach snapped at her to stop and Coach— 

Oh, Coach was nearly inconsolable. And no matter how many times she tells Addy that what they did, what they do, what they have together, doesn’t have anything to do with why Will did what he did, Addy still can’t help but wonder. Coach is clever and careful and she knew Will well, but she couldn’t read his mind. 

No one can read anyone else’s mind, not for real, not even Beth who reads Addy so well, sometimes it’s scary. What if Will found out and didn’t tell Coach? What if he was too distraught to call her out? 

There’s no proof that he didn’t know. No explanation why he did what he did. There was no note. 

How could a D in on some stupid geography test possibly matter at the end of the day, when Addy has so much else to deal with? So many bigger and heavier things?

* * *

Addy bows forward, fingertips pressed to gymnasium floor. One of her shoes rests atop Beth’s shoulder as Beth helps her stretch her leg, one hand curled around the back of her thigh, the other cupping her calf. 

There’s a familiar, welcome burn as her muscles are pulled taut. Beth drops that leg, works the other one. Addy does the same for her. They do wheelbarrow push-ups like they used to, completely in sync, snickering at the JV fetuses whose attempts fall flat. Addy almost feels normal. 

Then Coach struts by, blonde ponytail bouncing as she moves with purpose to scold Emily for having the audacity to snack on a Zebra Cake. 

Beth’s eyes lock onto Coach, raptorial, and any normalcy Addy might’ve felt evaporates like dew in the sun. 

“I bet she fucked him before she pulled the trigger,” Beth spits like venom under her breath. 

Addy’s heart gives a jolt. 

“Shut up,” she huffs, aiming to sound more irritable than rattled. 

Beth lifts her chin and that raptorial gaze locks onto Addy now, like it’s a challenge. 

“She would. I bet she knew it was going to be their last time, so she said everything to get him right where she wanted him. They had steamy sex in the shower, and she rode him like stallion until the water went cold. Then she—“ 

“Beth,” Addy cuts her off, and she means to sound razor sharp, but it comes out a shaky croak. “Just stop. Regionals are right around the corner, let’s focus on that.” 

“Oh, Addy.” Beth shakes her head. “There you go again.” 

“What?” 

“You know what.” Beth’s lips curl with something wry and dark. She whips around, ends of her hair striking Addy in the face as she hurries off to do a lap. 

* * *

“You don’t have to hold my mouth like that,” Addy exhales when Coach finally releases her. 

Coach gapes down at her, puzzled. Addy reaches up and gingerly brushes the pad of her thumb over her petal pink lip. The sheets are damp between her open legs, her underwear dangling from her bare ankle. 

“You don’t have to hold my mouth like that,” she repeats. “I won’t say anything.” 

“What?” Coach asks, brows knitting. 

“You’ve been holding my mouth closed since that night at Sarge’s,” Addy says quietly, “but you don’t have to. I haven’t said anything to anyone, and I won’t. Not ever.” 

“Oh.” Coach’s jaw falls open. “Oh, God, Addy, I didn’t even realize I was doing that.” 

“I know,” Addy says, trying to pacify her with a smile while thinking that it’s not quite true. 

She doesn’t know anything anymore, really. What to believe, who to believe. 

“You can trust me, Coach,” she encourages in a butter smooth octave, propping herself up on her elbows to kiss her cheek. 

Addy doesn’t know where they’re going with this anymore. It can’t be anywhere good, but in spite of everything, she wants to hold on even tighter. She is frightened of the possibilities that may unfold if she dares to let go. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's almost 3 AM and I'm pretty much asleep at my keyboard, so I'll fix typos and stuff later, I guess.


End file.
